


Wet Dream

by backtothestart02



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance, Sex Fantasy, Smut, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2018-12-23 17:05:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11994174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/backtothestart02/pseuds/backtothestart02
Summary: A series of sex fantasy one-shots from either Barry or Iris for every episode of the series.





	1. 1.01 - Pilot

**Author's Note:**

> Super excited for this!! If you don't follow me on tumblr (backtothestart02), you should know there's a sign up for if you want a certain chapter dedicated to you or not. Several have been requested but not many in season 1, so feel free to let me know in the comments if you'd like one, and I'll let you know if it's been taken yet or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This chapter is dedicated to kyannaj, megananomous, estherpixs, westallen4everlove, & pattonfangirl on tumblr for their initial inspiration and encouragement that I write this fic. Thank you, ladies. I would not have thought of doing this without your dirty minds putting the idea into my head. XD
> 
> *Many thanks to my wonderful beta, sendtherain, who looked this over for me. :D

Barry sat at the desk, tapping his fingers in a light staccato rhythm beside the keyboard, his eyes starting to burn with how long he’d gone without blinking, his occasionally uneven breathing making his fisted hand hot at his mouth. He knew – just _knew_ – this day could have gone better.

He’d gotten on the earliest train he could from Starling City, which as luck would have it was the _last_ possible train he could have taken to get back to Central City without Captain Singh calling to give him an earful. Just as he’d gotten off the train at the station, Joe texted – **WHERE ARE YOU?** Alarmed, he’d skimmed through any missed calls, of which there were seven. All from Joe. All telling him there was a crime scene to be at, and he couldn’t afford to be late again.

Not trusting any vehicle transportation to get him there faster than his own feet could, Barry ran to the scene of the crime, bumping into several people along the way and no doubt hitting them with the CSI briefcase he’d had to quickly grab at CCPD before heading over to where he’d been expected to be likely fifteen minutes prior.

And with no good excuse at that.

After some awkward bumbling and decisive reasoning though, his work there was done. The detectives could take over from there. His only task was to process some tests, form some logical reasoning, and then he’d be home free, ready to collect his things, meet up with Iris, and embark on the greatest journey of his life: his trip to STAR Labs to see the greatest mind in the 21st Century ignite the city with his particle accelerator firsthand.

But the tests were taking longer than expected, and he worried the ‘greatest journey of his life’ would have to be abandoned in favor of watching it all unfold as a news report from the protestors’ point of view on the ground.

He was supposed to have met Iris for lunch. He hadn’t seen her in several days – not since he left for Starling City – and he was aching to. There was something he wanted to tell her, and ask her too. Tonight wasn’t _just_ going to be about seeing the greatest technology come to life right here in Central City, it would be about changing the course of his relationship with his best friend, Iris West.

It was a huge decision on his part, and one that was in the process of turning him into nothing but a bundle of nerves. But it was time. It had been _fifteen years_ , and he hadn’t said a word. He’d justified why time and again, but he knew it had to be said. Iris had never been in a serious relationship in all their twenty-five years – he hadn’t either. That had to be a deliberate choice on her end, just like it had been on his. Maybe. Hopefully.

But as one hour turned into two, then three, as the computer tests struggled to get past 1% to three and then five, as the diagrams he drew and the pictures he pinned to the board gathered up, it became obvious his plan to meet up with Iris for lunch to discuss their evening activities – regarding both the particle accelerator and _them_ – were going to have to be pushed aside until later.

His one attempt to sneak out of the lab to go see her had Joe shoving a bag of Big Belly Burger takeout food at his chest with a knowing look just before he turned back around to return to his desk on the first floor of the precinct. With a deep sigh, Barry held the delivery to his chest, set it down near the slow-running computer, and barely finished half his burger before starting to sulk again.

With greasy fingers, he texted Iris to tell her that he wouldn’t be able to meet for lunch, to which she responded with a sad face emoticon followed by a cheerful message indicating how just fine that would be, since her co-worker Stacy wanted to leave early and couldn’t find anyone to cover her shift.

 _Convenient_ , Barry thought to himself, wondering if she would have cancelled on him with this excuse if he hadn’t said anything anyway.

 _No, Barry,_ he scolded himself. _She’s your **best friend**. She wouldn’t do that._

He sighed. “If she had no other choice, she would.” Just like he had no other choice now.

But just as he was about to succumb to full on negativity, to wonder if he was cursed somehow by today’s events, and that not seeing modern mankind’s greatest invention come to life was somehow proof that things were about to go even more downhill, the sound of clacking heels could be heard down the hall. The particular strut that accompanied them told him loud and clear who it was. Not Joe. Not Singh. Not an assistant to someone else giving him more paperwork to do. _Iris_.

His heart raced faster and he clumsily sat up in his chair, waiting for her arrival.

“You didn’t really think I’d let you skip out on our lunch date, did you?” She grinned as she walked into the room.

His heart skipped a beat. Butterflies fluttered wildly in his stomach. He smiled so wide it hurt, but he couldn’t help it, and he didn’t try to suppress it. He was used to that reaction when it came to seeing her – especially since it had been days, not hours, since their last interaction.

“I thought you were covering someone else’s shift.”

She stopped halfway to him abruptly and frowned. “I was. I am.”

The question lingered in his eyes.

She dropped her purse where she stood, closed the distance between them, and pulled him up out of his chair, keeping their fingers intertwined as she stared up into his eyes.

He was still semi-confused, but a smile twitched at the corner his lips. Confusion never stopped him from being happy with her, especially not when she was bubbling with happiness just being in the same room with him.

She rolled her eyes as his speechlessness continued.

“An eight-hour shift equals a _lunch break_ , Barry.” She shook her head at him when he still said nothing. “So, I can afford to be here, even if my dad won’t let you leave.”

“Ah.” He nodded and smiled.

“I missed you,” she confided and took a step closer.

They were _really_ close now. So much so that the lack of air between them stole his breath. And was it just him or was she…staring at his lips? And did she just…lick her lips as she stared? He licked his own lips – quickly, so as not to be noticed. His mouth was getting dry. The oxygen was being sucked out of the room. He was sure of it. There was no other explanation.

He thought of opening a window, but suddenly couldn’t remember if that was even possible. It had always felt at least mildly stuffy in this room for a reason.

“Aren’t you going to tell me you missed me, Barry?” she asked, setting her hands on his waist, still staring at his lips, sultry seduction in her eyes as they finally met his again.

“Iris?” he squeaked, tripping over his own feet as he backed away two steps.

She grabbed onto the collar of his shirt and pulled him to her, his lips now mere inches above hers.

He could barely breathe now, but he knew he was breathing because it was the only thing he could hear while being so close to her. He felt sweat on his forehead, on the back of his neck, and worried that it would drip onto her, and _wow, wouldn’t that just add to his streak of bad luck today_ – but it didn’t, and he couldn’t look away.

“Tell me you missed me,” she whispered, her breath hot against his lips.

“I…”

And then she kissed him. A real kiss, full-on. Not gentle – fierce, passionate, intense. Iris _knew_ what she wanted, and it was him. Despite the inevitability of it, it still took him by surprise, but he didn’t pull away. This could be a dream for all he knew. He’d had ones like it before. No way was he interrupting this one, especially if it happened to be real.

“God, I missed you, Barry,” she murmured, detaching her lips from his to kiss down his throat, winding her arms around his neck as she did.

He groaned, not needing the request again. “I missed you, too.”

His arms fell to her waist where they lightly rested until Iris’s complaint that his sweater was in the way made him pull back to rid himself of it. She peeled off her jacket and slid out of her skirt and shirt mere moments after so she was in front of him in only her bra and underwear.

His eyes widened, and he couldn’t look away. The sweat dripping down his neck was a reminder though that if this wasn’t a dream, someone could walk in at any moment. He licked his lips as he stared at her, trying to find his voice again, but it was nearly impossible.

“What – What if someone –” he squeaked and then broke off, heat consuming his face. He knew he had to be blushing.

But Iris only giggled and went to shut the door and lock it, giving him a full view of her barely covered ass swaying from side to side as she did so. By the time she’d turned around and was halfway to him, he’d almost fallen to the floor – Iris unhooking her bra and sliding it off her shoulders likely being the reason for that.

His hand reached around the nearby vicinity searching for a chair – _any_ chair – but he could feel nothing but air. Iris laughed and pulled the very close by chair near them, but when he tried to sit on it, she wouldn’t let him.

“Iris,” he said in a strangled breath. There was hardly a scrap of clothes on her, and he reeeeally wanted to touch her. But he didn’t trust himself to. Not until he was sitting.

Iris went straight for his belt, unbuckling it and pulling it from the belt loops and dropping it without precedence on the floor. He gulped – loudly to his own ears, hopefully not to hers.

The sound of her unbuttoning his pants and lowering his zipper made him hiss softly. His fingers were tingling. He really needed his shirt off. Like, now. It was long-sleeved and it was gathering sweat and he was so much more dressed than she was. For some reason in this moment, he wasn’t insecure at all that she would find him so much less attractive than he found her. She wasn’t giving him even the slightest indication that was a possibility.

She started to tug his pants down, and he could’ve sworn her own hands were shaking a bit.

“You better be hard for me, Barry Allen, or I swear—”

She stopped and grinned slowly as her hand wrapped around the bulge in his boxers.

He groaned loudly, a sharp intake of breath the only sound accompanying her slowly, torturously, dragging his underwear to his feet on the floor. Her raven hair brushed his thighs – and his hard, very prominent member – as she did so.

“Oh my God, Iris.”

“Barry,” she said, her breath on his dick, forcing his eyes back on her because it was happening. She was doing it. His eyes stayed glued to hers. He couldn’t speak, wasn’t sure he was breathing, but then her lips closed over his tip, her mouth moved up the length of him, and he knew right there, right then, that _he needed a chair_.

His hands fisted in her hair, guiding her – though she hardly needed it – and also trying to slow her down.

“I need – I need – ”

She pulled her head back, saliva dripping from her lips that she quickly wiped away with the back of her hand.

“You better not be coming already, Barry.”

He shook his head quickly. “No – No – Not.”

“Good.” She smiled and started to lower her head again.

“Chair,” he squeezed out with stifled breath just before her tongue touched his skin.

She halted her descent, looked up at him and smiled, her eyes twinkling.

“Going to fall over, Bear?”

He exhaled loudly in relief. _Yes. Finally,_ she had gotten the message.

“Uh-huh.” He nodded quickly so there’d be no miscommunication.

Still grinning, Iris got to her feet, picked up the nearby chair and set it just behind him and then forced him down into it. She bent over and kissed his lips again, all passion and no hesitation, just like before. She unbuttoned his shirt as she did so and stripped him of it as soon as she had reached the hem.

Then she straddled his lap and kissed him again, delving her tongue into his mouth as she wound her fingers through his hair, driving him crazy with lust and desire and urgency.

“Irisss,” he slurred, needing more of her, needing everything.

His hand settled on her ass, the sole part of her that was covered, and in response she ground herself against his dick, making them both cry out in pleasure.

This was so surreal – _too surreal?_ He thought for a moment and then dismissed it. No way. This was too good, felt too real to be a dream. He couldn’t remember a dream ever being this good.

“You feel so damn good, Barry,” she moaned as she ground harder, gasping when his hand squeezed her ass and forced her to move faster.

He could do nothing but breathe and wait for her to initiate the final step.

“I want you to cum inside me,” she said, her lips brushing his sweaty neck.

He halted his movements, and so did she.

“What?” he asked – no squeak, just genuine uncertainty.

“I’m on the pill,” she said, pulling back just a little to look at him. “Don’t worry.”

His brain started to short circuit. She was on the pill? Did that mean she was seeing someone? Sleeping with someone? Was she cheating on that person with him now? Shouldn’t he feel much more concerned about that? That was a bad thing. It was bad – right?

But Iris didn’t let him come to any solid conclusions. Instead, she set her feet on the floor, got back up and backed away enough to slip her fingers beneath her waistband and drag her silky underwear to the floor.

Then she came back to him and held herself in mid-air, just above where his erection stood at attention, waiting for her.

“Don’t worry, Barry,” she whispered, her lips inches from his mouth. “You won’t get me pregnant.”

And then she was lowering herself onto him, and they were both groaning until the moment he reached the very hilt of her core.

Then they waited, adjusting – _which was not something that was necessary in a dream, right?_

And then she moved.

She raised herself up and then down again. She alternated between the rise and fall and the grinding against him. Her moist forehead pressed to his, her murmurs of his name, the heavy breathing between both of them, Barry couldn’t remember feeling more alive or more totally and completely so overwhelmed.

Her skin was soft and slick. Her ass felt good in his hands and her breasts tasted amazing in his mouth. Her hair brushing his skin both tickled and caressed. Her thighs gripping his nearly sent him into oblivion every time they squeezed with her rise and fall. The pressure was amazing.

And then he heard it – _ding!_

The first time it was just background noise, drowned out by the essence of Iris and what they were doing.

The second and third time nearly came in unison.

By time number four through ten, Barry had to force his eyes open because it was loud and annoying, and in the back of his mind it alerted him to danger.

He wished he hadn’t. More than anything on this earth, he wished he hadn’t.

Because when his eyes opened he found himself sitting on the chair at his desk, the only proof of his encounter with Iris the uncomfortable bulge in his pants and the sweat dripping down the back of his neck and forming on his forehead.

His arm – the source of the sound – had been pressed hard into the keyboard and had been starting and stopping the tests he’d been waiting on to finish for nearly an hour now. He lifted it quickly, but the damage had been done. Too many commands had been accidentally entered. The computer froze, not answering to any keyboard or mouse functions he tried.

It was no use. He had to reboot the computer and start over.

In the minute or two it took to reboot the system and re-start the tests, Barry heard a ping from his phone. A text.

From Iris.

Forcing himself to think past the wet dream he’d just had of her, he opened the message.

**Turns out a full shift equals a lunch break! Want me to come by?**

He laughed and groaned simultaneously, dragging a hand down his face before responding.

**_Nah, that’s okay. Come by later._ **

Her sad face emoticon, followed by a **you sure?** was almost enough to change his mind, but one glance back to the bulge in his pants firmly kept his decision grounded.

**_Yep. I’ll see you later._ **

It was a full minute until she responded again, and he worried he’d hurt her feelings.

He needn’t have worried.

**Can’t wait! :D**

He draped a hand over his eyes and leaned back in his chair, deciding to respond to that later, if at all.

“Me either,” he grumbled, his mind on the question of whether he could successfully make it to the bathroom to rid himself of blue balls without anyone seeing him.

 _She didn’t tell you how she felt_ , he realized, thinking back to the beginning of his dream. _She would’ve told you that._

He glanced over at his turned over phone and reached for it. After a moment’s hesitation, he responded.

**_Me either. :)_ **

**Missed you** came after he’d barely pressed send. He ignored the flashes of what had followed _that_ sentiment in his dream.

**_Missed you too._ **

She sent a picture of her blowing a kiss to him from where she stood behind the counter at CC Jitters, a curious co-worker photobombing in the back.

His heart skipped a beat as it had earlier, a smile helplessly spreading across his face.

_I love you._


	2. 1.02 - Fastest Man Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chap is set after Barry runs out to catch the robbers at the Simon Stagg event and faints due to his lack of food intake.
> 
> *Many thanks to my awesome beta, sendtherain, for looking this over.

Having super speed could be very disorienting. Especially at first, because he didn’t know what was happening, but even now it was hard to control. But the desire to help people in a way he hadn’t been able to before, in a way he couldn’t help his dad, was such a driving force that little else mattered or could stop him from being the hero he innately wanted to be.

So when those robbers came in, forcing everyone to handle their most expensive accessories, Barry’s first instinct had been to help, to take those guys down. Who knows? Maybe these were even the guys responsible for the burglary earlier today.

But Iris had held him back. Because she didn’t know what he could do. _She_ was trying to protect _him_.

As if keeping his long-held feelings for her at bay wasn’t already such a burden, especially with him being the good friend that he was and actually letting her make out with this cocky cop right in front of him, he now had to keep from her that he had super speed. He knew where Joe was coming from, which was why he agreed to the promise. Though with each passing day he sensed even more doubt and disappointment coming from him that sometimes he wondered why he bothered trying to prove himself.

He was naturally awkward. He couldn’t help that. He didn’t plan to blurt out inappropriate things when he showed up at crime scenes to do his CSI work. It just happened.

_I’m starting to think ‘Joe, I’m sorry’ is my actual name, considering how often you say it to me._

Joe had always been hard on him when it came to breaking boundaries or believing in the impossible, but Barry had just about his limit with the lack of support. His drive to be a hero was accepted by someone he was starting to consider a friend: Cisco Ramon. Dr. Wells – who he never in his life expected to be so acquainted with – and Caitlin Snow at STAR Labs made no secret of the fact that they thought his reckless endeavors to save the day were unwise. But they were still adapting. They were open to him exploring this new opportunity to make a difference in a way he hadn’t been able to before.

He knew without even having to think about it that Joe wouldn’t be. It’s why he hadn’t said a word to him about his alliance with the remaining STAR Labs employees. He didn’t know if he ever would. He couldn’t envision a scenario in which Joe would ever take it well.

And Iris…

Iris made him want to do better, be better. As much as it completely broke him to see her with Eddie, and as fiercely as he insisted to Joe he hadn’t and wouldn’t tell her, Barry had been on the verge of confessing both his secrets in the reception hall. They’d been interrupted before Iris came back to it, only to have them interrupted again.

Now here he was, after having saved a cop from four robbers by snaking the bullets out of harm’s reach, pressed up against the garbage can outside the building. He’d gone out to catch them, but found himself winded, just like he had earlier in the day after rescuing several people from the fire. He’d been surprised by it then, but now he knew there had to be more to it, maybe something  to do with this super speed that had been thrust upon him.

But he didn’t have time to think about all the potentials how’s and why’s. He was fading fast, his mind going blank and then black. He lost all thought and feeling, not aware at all of the cement beneath his head as he slumped onto the ground.

“Barry… Barry, wake up…”

The sound of a familiar voice brought him slowly awake. It was cool and soothing, giving him the kind of comfort and warmth that only came from the feeling of safety and security.

“Hey,” Iris said softly, brushing her fingers through his hair as his eyes finally focused on her.

“Hey,” he returned, his voice scratchy.

He tried to clear his throat and realized only after Iris had left to get him a glass of water that she’d been holding his hand. He hoped she’d hold it again when she returned. He didn’t get that luck of the draw, but he did get her helping him sit up as he looked around the room he was in.

STAR Labs. On a hospital bed like the one he’d been on when he woke up from his coma. He furrowed his brows, confused.

“Where are we?” he asked.

Iris looked at him sympathetically. “Don’t you remember?”

He looked at her and shook his head, taking the glass of water she held out for him and sipping some while she began her explanation.

“STAR Labs, Bear. Your favorite place nowadays,” she chuckled lightly.

“Where is everybody?” he asked, not stopping to think of who she might or might not have met on her way to the building and this room.

“In the other room.” She shrugged. “I told them I wanted to be the one with you when you woke up.”

He nodded, accepting the logic.

“And your dad?” he asked, tensing at the thought Joe’s reaction to seeing him in this condition.

“I may have fibbed a little about the two of us needing to leave because of how shook up you were.”

“But…I have to give a testimony…”

Iris ran her fingers through her hair again and started to lean in.

“Shh,” she soothed. “You can give it later. Don’t worry about that now. Now you need to rest.”

Reluctantly he relented, taking the water from her again when she encouraged another sip.

“So, you were going to tell me something,” she said after a while, her hand resting lazily just above his knee where she sat on the bed.

“What?” his brows furrowed, forgetting.

Then –

_So, what were you going to tell me? You looked like you were about to say something._

“Oh.”

She grinned, taking his breath away as always.

“Yeah.”

It was now or never, he told himself. He could swear her to secrecy. Maybe that would work. She was good at keeping secrets. He wasn’t. He’d only kept one secret pretty amazingly for years. This new one he’d stifled for a couple weeks, and it was already killing him. He wondered which would be more baffling to her now.

Best friend confessing he’s in love with you when she’s happy in a relationship with someone else?

Or trying to convince her he had super powers when he was clearly out of commission?

“I love you,” he blurted before he could decide on one or the other.

Iris blinked, and then laughed. Worse than he could’ve predicted.

“I’m sorry,” she said, covering her mouth so he couldn’t see her smiling face. His face turned beet red. “I’m not laughing at you,” she attempted to clarify. “Well, maybe I am. I don’t know. I just expected a bigger secret than that. You know, something life-altering.” She paused, a regretful look on her face.

“I’m sorry, Bear,” she said again, softer this time. “You know I love you too.”

“I have super speed,” he said, going for the latter since he didn’t want to try and correct her first assumption related to his feelings for her.

Iris rolled her eyes and crossed one knee over the other.

“Well, that I already knew.”

His brows furrowed, his lips parted in paralleled confusion.

“What- How-”

“Oh, come on. I’m your best friend, Barry. You think I don’t know when my best friend becomes the fastest man alive and runs around the city saving people?”

“Uh…” _Yeah, actually._

“We shouldn’t tell my dad, though. He’d never believe it.”

 _Great decision_.

He wouldn’t tell her he already had – or, that Joe had believed upon seeing. Seeing was always believing with that man.

“I wish you’d told me.” She propped her chin in her hand. “Maybe I could have used that as the subject for my article. Waaay more interesting than Simon Stagg and whatever science-y thing you only had a   _slim_ possibility of making me understand.”

He laughed nervously.

“So, you really just…knew.”

“Yeah.” She nodded once, then popped her lips. “I figured it out, because I’m cool like that.”

She was confusing him again, but in a good way.

“You are cool,” he allowed.

“You know what else makes me cool?” she asked, hands on her hips after she stood beside the bed.

Before he could answer, she wrapped her hands around to her back, unzipped the zipper on her purple dress and let it pool at her feet.

He gasped. “ _Iris_.” Then scooted in bed as far back as he could go.

“I knew what you meant, Barry.” She smiled slyly, kicking off her heels and climbing onto the bed, crawling slowly towards him.

He didn’t know what had gotten into her, but he couldn’t move. He could just stare at her progression towards him, carefully to keep his eyes on hers and nowhere else. He didn’t trust himself to look at any other portion of her anatomy, and looking away entirely felt more dangerous right now than jumping off a cliff.

“About being in love with me,” she clarified, straddling him and draping her arms over his shoulders.

 _That’s not exactly what I said_ , he thought, but didn’t say it aloud.

“I feel the same way,” she assured, smiling brightly.

“You…you do?” he asked, hope alighting in his eyes.

She nodded and smiled, her hands running through his hair again, making him weak.

“But…” He swallowed hard. “What about Eddie?”

Her brows furrowed and then pure mischief appeared in her gaze.

His jaw dropped. He didn’t want to prod her further necessarily, but he didn’t want her to cheat either. He didn’t want to be the reason they broke up – even if secretly he kind of did. He only felt mildly guilty about that in this particular moment though, because Iris West was straddling him and telling him she had feelings for him.

If she said there was no Eddie, then there wasn’t. Right?

Iris lowered her lips to his, pausing just an inch away.

“We broke up,” she teased playfully.

His eyes, having closed in preparation for the kiss, flashed open.

“What?” A single droplet of sweat trickled down the back of his neck.

But Iris didn’t answer the question. Instead, she closed the very small distance between them in an open-mouthed kiss that had her tongue dancing with his and him moaning into her.

“Fuck, Barry, you’re so hot.”

He groaned as she broke away from his lips to pepper kisses across his collarbone. He was shirtless – apparently.

He paid it no mind. Iris’s soft as a feather skin was a distraction to which he finally let himself succumb. His hands went around her back and unhooked her bra, sliding it over her shoulders and letting her do the remainder of the work by tossing it to the floor.

She was more beautiful than he could have imagined, her breasts supple and warm. They fit into the palm of his hand perfectly. His fingers could envelop them entirely. And when he squeezed, she moaned and ground against him. He loved the sound of her purring into his ear, so he did it again and again.

“In your mouth,” she demanded, and he complied, leaning forward to capture one breast in his mouth while prodding the other nipple erect.

He couldn’t remember having such finesse in the bedroom before, but maybe it was because no girl had ever been Iris. Or because they technically hadn’t…

“Fuck me,” she said. Just in time too, because her grinding against him was driving him out of his mind.

 _Are-Are you sure?_ sounded off in his head, but for some reason the jittery question didn’t slip past his lips at all.

Instead, he practically lunged off the bed, pinning her to the other side in a reversal of their positions.

Iris gasped, wide-eyed for the moment at the sudden shift. But then her arms wrapped around his neck again, and she drew him in.

“What are you waiting for?” she asked.

 _Nothing_ , he thought. _Absolutely nothing._

His lips latched onto hers, his tongue dove into her mouth. His mouth parted from her to trail a line of hot, lingering kisses from her chin down the length of her torso. He’d thought to pull off her panties with his teeth – how daring would that be for their first time? But when he reached her hips, they were gone. A beat later he realized the rest of his clothes were gone too.

And then it hit him.

It’s just a dream.

His heart sank for a moment. He tried to reassure himself after that that he should be glad, because he was free to enjoy this. It definitely was not the way he wanted things to go down when it happened for real. But it still sucked, because…

“Next time,” dream!Iris said, breaking his thoughts.

She was reaching for him, trying to yank him up the length of her body.

“Foreplay is great and all. There’s nothing more than I’d love than for you to keep doing what you’re doing now, but… I want your dick inside me. And I need it _now_.”

He threw all cautionary questions to the wind. Now that he knew he was dreaming, nothing else mattered but taking what he wanted, what he loved, what he had craved from the moment he hit puberty.

So he traveled back up her body, thrilling in the feel of her wrapping her legs around his waist and the sound of her cry when he entered her fully.

The pressure felt amazing. He groaned as he retreated slowly and then thrust back into her, his hips rocking in perfect rhythm with her own.

“Oh, God, Barry.” Her nails dug into his skin.

He fucked her faster, harder, every cry a demand for more. Her hands glided over his back, dripping with sweat. The hospital bed creaked but didn’t break, and suddenly Barry realizing he was moving faster than usual – than ever – than was even possibility.

“Baaaarry.”

She almost sounded scared, but she wasn’t. Her mouth was open in a cry of pleasure, and then he was emptying himself into her. And he couldn’t believe this wasn’t real, because it felt amazing.

Breathing heavily, on the verge of collapsing onto her, his face dripping with sweat cradled into her neck, he nearly fell off the bed when her voice came suddenly at him again. Though this time it was more of a bark.

“Barry. Barry! BARRY!!”

He blinked. Her face was a little blurry now, but it cleared up fairly quickly. Confused, he looked around the both of them and found they were not in STAR Labs, but they were someplace familiar.

“I turned around, and you were gone. What happened? Are you okay?” she was saying. He barely heard it. He couldn’t even look at her he was so mortified.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine…” He forced himself to look her in the eyes. And also, to come up with a decent excuse as to his disappearance from the crowded, scared hall where the threat of being shot and robbed was almost a certainty. “I-I went after them to try to get the plates.”

She looked at him in disbelief. He didn’t blame her.

“I fainted,” he admitted, allowing himself at least one truth.

The stress from the day before that amazing dream washed over him in waves. Anger at having failed and frustration at the support as well as his inability to tell Iris everything weighed on him now more than ever.

He looked away from her again, aware that in mere moments she’d try to get him to stand up and go back inside. The feel of himself inside her snug, tiny, intoxicating body started to fade from his consciousness. Reality was much crueler than that fantasy, and it demanded all of his attention.

Iris’s seductive touches would have to be forced back into the recesses of his mind until later.

 


	3. 1.03 - Things You Can't Outrun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chap is set after Barry leaves Joe’s hospital room near the end of the ep so Iris and Eddie can talk to him alone.
> 
> Dedicated to iwasalwaysaromantic in exchange for one of her lovely icon batches (sry this took so long, hun! I hope you enjoy it!!)
> 
> *Many thanks to sendtherain for being an epic beta and getting this to me so quickly. <3

Barry knew what would happen the second he gave Iris that pointed look, said the words that would make Joe pay a little bit more attention to his daughter, and backed out of the room.

Iris was going to tell her dad that she was dating his partner, Eddie. Whether she was going to tell him for how long was up in the air, but she was definitely going to tell him. Barry could tell by the anxious but appreciative look on her face when he glanced at her. For better or for worse, she was going to be honest about her love life with her father.

Joe was not going to like it. He wasn’t going to like it one bit. He had very high standards for who his daughter could date. They were so high in fact that Barry wondered if anyone would ever be good enough for Joe’s baby girl. At the same time, Barry knew Joe wanted his daughter to be happy and eventually settle down with a man she loved and eventually give him grandchildren he could spoil rotten.

A sick feeling welled up in Barry’s stomach as a vision of Iris bearing another man’s child and wearing his wedding ring flashed before his eyes.

Perhaps his expectations for who Iris could date were even higher than Joe’s.

He sighed and took a seat a short way down the hall outside of Joe’s room. He wanted to talk to him again once Iris and Eddie dropped their relationship bomb on him. He wanted to talk more about the incident, about saving him, and about his dad. He was worried his dad somehow figured out his identity during that brief moment of saving Joe’s life.

So, he would wait and try to get the image of Iris wrapped up in Eddie’s arms –  of Joe singing his praises and giving instant approval once he scolded Iris for not telling him sooner – out of his head. God, that made him feel sick.

Which was bad. _You’re being a bad friend, Barry._ But he wasn’t. He was being such a good friend by giving Iris that window of opportunity. Though the fact that Eddie was so close behind her possibly hinted that she’d been planning on doing it anyway.

_Life sucks._

He pinched the bridge of his nose and reminded himself that he had a lot of things to be grateful for. Iris might not love him the way he loved her, but she was still such a loyal friend to him. She loved him in that way. Eddie, for his part, didn’t hate him either. So, he wasn’t the jealous type. That was good. Barry knew that was good. But some part of him was irritated that Eddie wasn’t threatened by him. Was he so beneath Iris that never in a million years could Eddie imagine her wanting to be with this gangly best friend of hers over her buff, hotshot detective boyfriend?

_Moving on._

He had Joe, his dad, Caitlin, Cisco, Dr. Wells. He had his job as a CSI. He had caught the meta tonight that had almost killed Joe and had succeeded with many others.

_Had almost killed Joe._

His gut tightened at that realization. He couldn’t imagine losing Joe. If he hadn’t had that epi pen on him or Barry hadn’t been there in time, who knows what…

_Stop it._

Interrupting his depressing thoughts – thankfully – was Eddie emerging from the room muttering something about considering getting into the witness protection program. He didn’t even notice Barry as he walked past him down the hall, and that was probably a good thing since Barry’s eyebrows showed confusion, but his lips were curved into irrepressible satisfaction.

Maybe the exchange hadn’t go as well as either Iris or Eddie had hoped. Maybe there was still hope for him yet!

_Bad, bad, bad, Barry._

But he couldn’t help it. What guy in love with a girl wouldn’t rejoice if the girl’s dad disapproved of her current boyfriend? He would be ecstatic.

But then he would feel bad. Which Barry did. He felt very, very bad that he was enthused over something going poorly for his best friend, especially something she wished very much would go well. That was being a bad friend, feeling selfishly about something that-

He should probably leave. He couldn’t be smiling when Iris emerged from the room barely holding back tears. She probably wouldn’t even go to find Eddie, and Eddie would look to him for help. He couldn’t show concern all over his face while smiling. That would be impossible.

_Oh my God, Barry, can you not?_

Yeah, he should definitely leave. His plan to see his dad wouldn’t change whether or not he saw Joe again. Once had technically been enough. He just liked to spend time with him, and he felt like this topic was one of the few things he could only talk with Joe about. Cisco, Caitlin, and Dr. Wells could sympathize; and Iris…well, even if she wasn’t too wrapped up in her current situation, he knew he couldn’t tell her everything.

He couldn’t tell her how he almost got his dad out or how scared he’d been when he’d seen Joe on death’s door writhing on the floor when he sped into Iron Heights. There was so much he couldn’t tell her because it would lead straight to him telling her he was the Flash, and Joe had made it clear that was the one thing she couldn’t know.

He hated that she didn’t know. He wished somehow he had told her before Joe had the opportunity to tell him not to. Now he felt like he owed it to him. After today…him almost getting killed by that gas meta? How could he tell Iris after that? He could ask her not to tell her dad that she knew, but she’d likely just get mad at her dad for asking him to keep it from her and go storming up to him to say just how much she hated that. Joe would be mad at both of them then. And on top of finding out Iris and Eddie were dating, that would just be too much.

Then again, maybe Iris would wait to lunge into a lecture at her dad, given he was in a hospital bed at the moment. Maybe she’d cool down before she planned to tell him, and Barry could even talk her out of telling him any time soon. Or ever. Maybe one day Joe would decide it would be okay to tell her and she could just pretend to not ever have known. That could work, right? He knew Iris was capable. She’d kept the secret that she and Eddie were dating for almost nine months. Maybe exactly nine months.

 _No_. She had not started dating Eddie the day he went into a coma.

_Right?_

His stomach twisted into knots again.

Unable to take sitting in one spot and letting these thoughts absolutely wreck him, Barry stood up and walked down the hall. There was a bathroom. He’d go in, wash his face, take a couple deep, long breaths, and go see his dad. He could forget all about Iris, and the state of their relationship that she didn’t have the slightest idea about, for a good couple hours.

He could just go…and talk with his dad, reminisce. It would be great.

A healing warmth spread through his chest, and he knew that, _yes_ , this was _exactly_ what he needed.

A soothed smile on his face, he pulled open the door and went inside the bathroom. The cool, refreshing water on his face was unbelievably pleasant. While a soft towel would’ve maybe made the whole experience even more amazing, he decided a couple paper towels worked fine too.

Feeling all bright and bushy-tailed, he turned away from the sink, his hand reaching from the door handle, when suddenly it was pulled out, and in walked Iris West, as if she had every right to be there.

“Iris!” He nearly shrieked.

“Barry,” she whispered, putting a finger to her lips. “Shh!”

He looked at her incredulously, his mouth still hanging open.

“Iris. This is the-” He peeked around the bathroom to make sure they were alone and then lowered his voice. “This is the _men’s_ bathroom.” He swallowed as a thought occurred to him and his brows furrowed. “Didn’t you see the sign?”

She rolled her eyes, then turned around to lock the door.

“Yes, Bear, I can read.”

Her certainty didn’t make him feel any less confused.

“Then…?”

“I saw you come in here, and I needed to talk to you.”

“You couldn’t wait till I came out?”

“It needed to be right away.”

“What is it?” he asked, suddenly concerned for a variety of reasons. “I mean, Jesus, Iris, what if I had been—”

She folded her arms. “I’ve seen your penis, Barry. It wouldn’t have shocked me that much.”

His face turned bright red. _I’m gonna have a panic attack._

“You…” he cleared his throat, struggling to breathe. “You have?”

“Of course,” she said, exasperated now. “That one time in high school, remember? You forgot to lock the bathroom door and you’d already turned the shower off, so I didn’t realize you were in there, and I walked in and—”

She frowned when he stared at her blankly.

“You don’t remember that?”

If he did, he’d obviously blocked it out. He must’ve been mortified.

She sighed and propped a hand on her hip. “Well, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

_The hell? Was she telling him she wasn’t impressed by his dick either?_

“It’s _not_ ,” she insisted when he didn’t say anything for a full thirty seconds.

“Right.”

She blew a lock to the side of her face.

“Anyway…”

“Yes, please,” he muttered under his breath.

“My dad doesn’t approve of Eddie.”

_Yesssss._

“I’m sorry, Iris.”

_You’re not, you fool. Don’t smile._

Miraculously, he didn’t.

“Yeah, well, I’m starting to think he’s right.”

“You…you are?”

“Mhmm. I mean, it would make things complicated, Eddie being my dad’s partner and all…”

“Did you guys break up?” he asked too fast, his words practically slurring together.

“Yeah.”

His heart fell to the pit of his stomach.

“Wh-when? Just now?” He rasped.

She nodded, not looking at him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, still trying to wrap his mind around this revelation.

_Tell her. Tell her. Tell her!_

“I think so. I mean, I really liked him, but…” she sighed, glanced at him and then quickly away. He wondered what that was about. “I think mostly what I’ll miss is the sex.”

He grimaced. He did not need to hear about this.

“It was like…really good sex.”

He groaned. “Iris, I don’t think I need to hear about-”

“Like, honestly, fantastic. You can’t even imagine how-” Her eyes finally locked on his, and she flushed. “Sorry. TMI, right?”

“By a lot, Iris.”

She looked away.

“I guess it’s just been a long time since I had sex. And it meant something, because it was someone I was actually serious about. So, I’ll miss that connection.”

He didn’t say anything, couldn’t make himself.

“I wonder if I’ll ever have a connection like that again…” she wondered aloud.

“I’m sure you will, Iris.”

She glanced over at him. “We could test it out.”

He blinked, not sure he’d heard her right.

“What?”

“Test it out. The sex.”

He blushed a bright red.

“Are you…serious?”

“Yeah!” she said enthusiastically, walking over to him. “I mean, I know they say sex ruins friendships, but we’ve been friends for so long. I’m sure it wouldn’t. We’ve been through everything together.”

“Uh huh…”

“And you and I have a very strong connection, even if it isn’t romantic. There’s definitely sexual tension between us too.”

“There is?” he nearly squeaked.

She nodded. “I’ve felt it.”

He nearly fell over.

“Why…” He cleared his throat. “How come you never said anything, Iris?”

“I mean…it’s weird, being attracted to your best friend, wanting to fuck him whenever he licks that last crumb of coffee cake sitting on the table.” She sighed wistfully, her eyes going dark.

He could not believe he was witnessing this.

“I really think you should have told me, Iris,” he said very seriously.

She locked eyes on him again.

“Why?” She took that last step between them and gently laid her hand over his heart. “Would you have reciprocated?”

“Hel-…ye…” But he couldn’t form full words.

And thankfully he didn’t have to, because Iris pulled at his sweater at the same time she took the finale step between them, yanking him towards and arching up against him as her lips latched onto his in a soaring kiss.

 _I didn’t know you could kiss like this,_ fluttered through his mind, but he was incapable of all speech. _Jesus, Iris_ , passed through too. He was lucky he was present enough to respond to her kisses, which were deep and passionate, and Lord she could do things with her tongue.

“Mmm, Barry,” she moaned, a fistful of his hair in one hand mirroring the fistful of his sweater in the other.

He shuddered and finally wrapped his arms around her.

She felt incredible, amazing.

“Touch me,” she whispered urgently.

He thought he _was_ touching her, but apparently she wanted more because she took one of his hands and put it on her ass, took the other and put it on her breast, forced him to squeeze it with her fingers intertwined over his.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Iris,” he swore under his breath, practically whimpering when after smiling into a hungry kiss, she pulled his bottom lip out with her teeth.

She released him long enough to slide the sweater off her shoulders and unbuckle the belt around her waist. One fell to the floor with a soft hush, the other with a clatter. She stepped out of her heels and immediately sunk down a couple inches.

She pushed at his chest and suddenly he was against the sink he’d been standing at before.

“Pick me up,” she commanded.

“Huh?”

“Pick me up,” she repeated.

Before his mind fully comprehended her demand, she was taking off his sweater, unbuttoning his shirt underneath and pulling his pants to the ground. She cupped his growing erection in her hand, and he groaned.

“I-I-I…”

“Iris,” she murmured, pulling him down so she could kiss him again. “Iris is my name.”

Shallow breaths escaped his mouth. All he could do was nod.

“Pick me up and fuck me.”

He didn’t even open his eyes. His hands just moved of their own accord, under her dress, past her bare buttocks save only for some lacy lingerie panties, and landed solidly on her hips, lifting her up against him.

She squealed in anticipation. He could not believe this was happening.

“Barry, open your eyes.”

Slowly, he did. Iris was tracing the curves of his face, running her fingers through his messy locks, gripping his shoulders tightly, and pressing a kiss to the side of his neck.

“Make love to me,” she whispered against his skin, and a whole different kind of emotion rolled over him in waves.

Making love was a whole different ballgame than fucking. It reminded him that he loved her, that he was _in_ love with her. And here she was just wanting rebound sex and picking him because they weren’t strangers.

“Iris?” He felt tears well in his eyes.

She kissed him before he could question her further. She lifted her dress up over her head and unclasped her bra. His mind blurred over. She looked absolutely incredible. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten so lucky as to-

“Take your dick out of your underwear, Bear, and fuck me.”

_Fuck me._

That’s what she said. He thought-

But before he could articulate his confusion over her takeback, he felt his dick in her hand, felt her forcing him to relax his grip on her enough to lower her onto him, and a minute later he had spun them around, braced her on the edge of the sink and was thrusting into her. Each long stride more blissful than the next, the tension building until nothing but gasps or moans could be heard echoing from wall to wall.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” came tumbling out of his mouth. He’d never considered himself that vulgar in speech, but something about Iris wanting him in this way made him throw all caution to the wind.

“Harder, Barry,” she urged. “Faster.”

And he did. He went hard. And fast. Speedster fast. Her cries turned to an almost painful pitch until he became aware of what he was doing and slowed down.

“Iris- Are you…are you all right?” he asked, slightly panicked.

She was breathing heavily, her eyes still lidded and dark, filled with lust.

“Finish,” she demanded, and he did, pumping in and out of her slick, soaking core until she cried out his name in ecstasy, and he shuddered against her small frame.

She smiled shyly as she hopped off the sink to gather her clothes and put them back on. He smiled to himself too, a blush creeping up his neck again. He reached for his pants, only to find there was nothing to reach for.

He was wearing them.

He blinked, looking down, only to find a big dark spot in the vicinity of his crotch. His cheeks flamed red. He turned around to where Iris had been. She was gone. But to his relief the door was locked and there was no one pounding on the other side.

Confusion buzzed around him. If he came into the bathroom, and he jacked off to Iris… He cringed at that realization. Why hadn’t he taken his pants off or pulled them down at least? Why had he cum inside them? Unless it hadn’t been planned, and he just…?

He was about to leave when he spotted out of the corner of his eye, what appeared to be a chipped part of his belt buckle lying in the sink. He looked down at his zipper and saw it was somewhat frayed and some fibers were lying in the sink as well.

His whole body was consumed in heat.

_Had he…for real…stood at the sink, started thinking about Iris, and then ground against the sink until he came?_

“ _Hell_.”

He speed-cleaned the whole area and sped right out of the hospital all the way to his tiny apartment to shower and change clothes before seeing his dad in prison.

And okay, because he was no longer in a public place, he took an extra long shower and fantasized about fucking Iris again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 4 and 5 coming soon :)


	4. 1.04 - Going Rogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is set after Barry & Eddie abruptly leave the double date but before Joe comes home and have a brief skirmish with Iris about why he's not a fan of Iris & Eddie dating. It's also my first chapter I'm writing from Iris' POV. Initially I was going to wait till 1x09, and then I was going to make an exception for 1x05, but this felt realistic, so I went with it. :P
> 
> Dedicated to iwasalwaysaromantic again for making me such lovely icons.
> 
> *Many thanks to sendtherain for being an awesome beta once again. :)

She was doing this for his own good.

Barry Allen was a catch. He was also her best friend, and Felicity was clearly into him. The blonde was also beautiful and had a ton in common with him. For the life of her, Iris couldn’t figure out why he was so resistant. Or why he’d make up an excuse as lame as a stomachache and apparently…diarrhea – _ew, gross_ – as a reason to bail on their double date. What girl would want to give a guy a second chance after being given that as an excuse? It screamed fear of commitment. Sure, Felicity had crossed the country to see him, but a girl could only be expected to endure so much rejection before deciding the guy wasn’t worth the trouble. And Iris _knew_ Barry was worth it.

Granted Eddie having to leave so suddenly effectively killed the double date status, but Iris would’ve found a way to smoothly exit the scene, so Barry and Felicity could have a date all to themselves. She would’ve patted herself on the back later for the success when he informed her he’d seen the light and planned on seeing her again.

But since she hadn’t been allowed to put that plan into motion and had been unable to get her minor irritation at Barry off her mind, Felicity had inevitably taken the awkward silence as her cue to go. Not ten minutes after Barry left, so did Felicity, and Iris knew she had only herself to blame.

However, that didn’t stop her from planning any and all ways on her way home from Jitters to convince Barry to consider Felicity as a real option the next time he saw her.

The house was dark when she arrived, which made sense. Dad was out with Eddie looking for Snart, and Barry was ‘sick.’ She rolled her eyes at that reminder and half-debated calling him up to see how sick he really was, but he’d probably see right through her, just like she’d seen through the terrible fake coughing he’d managed to never master all the years growing up together.

When he really needed to call in sick and he had to sound convincing over the phone, Iris would always be right there with him and stomp hard on his foot when he gave her the cue. He’d usually crumple over and then she’d kick him in the side, effectively pushing the grunt and groan out of him. She’d tried just jabbing at him with her nails once, but that had the unfortunate side effect of making him giggle because she’d hit a ticklish spot. That had earned him a suspension.

She smiled fondly at the reminder.

_God, Barry Allen is such a catch._

The sound of the front door unlocking behind her pulled her out of her fond memories with Barry. It didn’t occur to her who could possibly be showing up. As the recent events of the day fluttered through her mind, she realized it couldn’t be her dad. Even if he and Eddie had caught and put away Snart, there was paperwork to be done. For all she knew they would be roped into another case. But Barry had gone home sick – or so Felicity had said – so it couldn’t be-

“Barry!” Her jaw dropped as he walked through the door and smiled at her. A million questions ran through her mind as she stood up and walked over to him. “Felicity said you were sick. Are you okay?”

He blinked, then shook his head quickly, which should’ve tipped her off right away but for some reason didn’t.

“Oh, yeah, no, no. I mean, yes, yes I’m feeling better. And no, I’m not sick. I thought I was, but I wasn’t.”

Her brows furrowed, and she frowned, confused.

“But she said you threw up and had…” She debated blurting out the rest but figured she’d save him the humiliation. “That you’d been in the bathroom a long time.” She avoided his gaze briefly and cleared her throat.

“Yeah, I…uh, actually…”

Her thoughts spilled out of her mouth without warning.

“Though I don’t know how she could have said you’d been in there a long time, since it was a minute max between when Eddie left and Felicity said you left…but if you’d needed to use the bathroom really bad then why wouldn’t you have just used the one at Jitters? I mean, if you couldn’t hold it…” She stopped herself again and looked up at him. His face was flushed a bright red.

“You know what, it doesn’t matter. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

He laughed a little nervously and followed her to the couch.

“Yeah…”

“Wanna watch a movie?” she proposed before he could say anything else.

He sunk into the couch beside her and nodded, seemingly as relieved as she was about the change in topic.

“Sure. I don’t have anywhere to be.”

“Is that all I am to you, Barry?” she asked, looking at him over her shoulder and giggling. “Someone to hang with when you have nothing better to do?”

His eyes widened, horrified by the conclusion she’d come to.

“What?” he squeaked. “No, Iris, of course not. Why would you say—”

But she was already leaning towards him, eager to tease further, her hand landing on his thigh in the process and slowly moving upward.

“Irisss,” he slurred as she moved closer.

She stopped, suddenly very aware of her hand on his thigh and quickly pulled it back as if burned.

“Oh, my God.” She scooted a couple inches away from him and refused to look anywhere but the blank space in front of her. “Oh, my _God_.”

The silence between them was deafening and incredibly awkward.

“I don’t know why I did that,” she said quietly. “Sorry, Barry.” She swallowed hard.

He cleared his throat. “It’s okay.” He reached forward the grab the TV remote out of her hands, but their fingers touched and the device dropped onto the floor, batteries spilling out. She gasped.

“Sorry,” she whispered, her heart pounding in her ears. She was breathing heavily, embarrassed beyond belief, and could not figure out for the life of her why she’d not only started flirting with Barry when she had no reason to, but her hand had also been mere inches away from his crotch.

Barry got up from the couch, and she exhaled a sigh of relief. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back into the cushions. Maybe he would just leave. He could leave and come back hours from now, and they could just pretend this whole thing hadn’t even happened.

But he didn’t wait hours to come back. He was back in less than five minutes, offering her a glass of water. She took it reluctantly, amazed at herself for not also dropping that on the floor.

“So, are you going to see Felicity again?” she asked, so, so proud for being able to change the subject without a single crack in her voice.

Clearly aware of her need to do so, he didn’t question the cheerfulness in her voice.

“Uh, no, I don’t think so.”

She turned her head towards him, her hair swishing with her.

“What?” She set the half-full glass of water down. “Why not? Did something happen? I thought she was really into you.” Her eyebrows narrowed. “Barry Allen, please don’t tell me she tried to ask you out and you shut her down.”

“Not exac-”

“You deserve to be happy, Bear.” She turned fully towards him and set her elbow on the back of the couch. “And you two are so alike. I know she could have made you happy. You could have made her happy. I just don’t understand why you won’t let yourself-”

“We kissed.”

An unfamiliar little green monster propped up on her shoulder. She tried her best to mentally destroy it.

“Oh. I don’t understand, then. Why aren’t you guys going to try for something then?” She paused, thinking the situation over. “Is it the distance? I know Star City isn’t exactly close.”

He laughed lightly. “That could’ve been another thing, but no, that wasn’t it.”

She frowned. “Then what?”

He shrugged. “I’m in love with someone else.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She squashed the feeling down quickly. _It’s not you, Iris._

“Bear!” She smacked his chest harder than necessary, mostly to remind herself that she had a boyfriend she had very strong feelings for and – apart from almost a full year in high school – had never even considered a romantic dalliance with her best friend, Barry Allen.

“What?” He laughed, rubbing the spot her hand had landed into lightly.

“You’re in love with someone!” She straightened beside him. “How could you not tell me?” He opened his mouth, but no words emerged. “How long have you loved her?” she demanded.

“Well, uh…”

“A long time or is this recent?”

“Eh…”

“A long time,” she finished for him, shaking her head. “Unbelievable, Barry Allen. Here you are in love with someone, and I, your best friend in the whole world, hadn’t the slightest idea. I really think you should have taken me into your confidence, Bear. Obviously you’ve been too shy to ask her out. I could’ve helped you get there! We could be going on double dates right now!”

He grimaced. “Like the one from today?”

She cringed briefly. “Point taken.” Then she shrugged it off. “But that was obviously just because you weren’t with who you really wanted to be with! So, tell me, who’s the lucky girl?”

His mouth opened but no sound came out.

“Don’t tell me you’re not gonna tell me.”

“Well…”

“Did I not tell you months ago that you should be able to tell me about girls you like?”

“Yeah, but…”

“I know a lot has happened since then, but my assurance still stands. You shouldn’t feel embarrassed. You should feel comfortable. I won’t judge, I promise. If you like her, I will like her. Well, unless she doesn’t treat you right. I don't care how hot _or_ nerdy she is. She's not going to get away with mistreating my Bear when he's so head over heels in love with-”

And then his lips were on hers and, for a moment, she stopped breathing.

He didn’t try to deepen the kiss, but he did linger before moving away, his eyes a mix of warmth, love, and absolute terror.

“Was that…” she cleared her throat to try and find her voice and keep it. “Was that just to shut me up or am I-”

He nodded. _You_. He didn’t have to say it.

“Me?” She pointed towards herself. “I’m the one you…” the question hung in the silence between them.

“I’ve loved you for years,” he admitted.

Her jaw hung open.

“I’ve wanted to tell you, but I was always too scared to. And I wasn’t going to tell you now either, especially since you’re taken, but…”

_Taken. That’s right, Iris. You’re a taken woman. Don’t forget that._

She took his face in her hands and kissed him back.

“ _Iris_ ,” he whispered, his breathing shallow. She didn’t move away, just hung there, her nose brushing against his cheek.

_What does this mean? What about Eddie? Do you love me too?_

He had to be thinking those things. She knew he had to. But she didn’t want to think about that now. She didn’t want to analyze those thoughts or remember the fact that she had a boyfriend risking his neck somewhere outside these walls. All she knew was the blood pumping through her veins was for Barry. The excitement rising through her was for Barry. The longing and lust and desperation to fuck right in this moment…was for Barry. Because he was a catch, and a damn attractive one at that. And if he wanted her too, right now that was all she needed to know.

She climbed onto his lap and kissed him again. She breathed in deep and pulled herself closer, running her hands through his hair and teasing his tongue with hers.

“ _Barry_ ,” she purred, angling her head to kiss him deeper, then alternating to the other side of his mouth to taste him there.

Chills rippled up her back as she felt his hands move over the smooth fabric of her dress.

“Do it,” she urged, and he did, pulling the dress up and over her head. She used his moment of awe as a distraction to rid him of his top and his belt buckle.

“ _Iris_ ,” he said again, as if he didn’t know a single other word in the dictionary.

She smirked and leaned forward to kiss him again, once, twice, three times. Then she lowered her lips to his chin, his neck, his collar bone, down his chest, over his stomach, and then she was on the floor looking up at him as she unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Her hand reached inside and lightly gripped the surface of his covered erection.

“Are you hard for me, Barry?”

He gulped, unable to look away.

She released him to stand up and rid herself of her undergarments. He was clearly dazzled, but he managed to watch her while also pushing off his pants and boxers too.

“I-I should get…should get a co-condom,” he rasped, but she was on her knees again.

“Hold my hair, Barry,” she whispered against his cock.

He caught his breath but did as he was told.

His cock twitched when she pressed one gentle kiss to the head of it. When she dragged her tongue from tip to base, Barry moaned loudly and gripped her hair tightly. Quick breaths followed when she took him into her mouth and gradually sucked the same path. The closer she got the more he moved beneath her, until her nose pressed against his groin and he was thrusting up into her as her tongue swirled around him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed, clutching her hair in two hands.

She didn’t choke. She didn’t think much on it at the time, but in hindsight she patted herself on the back, because Barry’s cock was no small thing, and she hadn’t even—

A thought occurred to her.

But before she could dwell on it, she realized his thrusts were slowing and that could mean only one thing.

“No, no, no,” she said, pulling off hurriedly. “You are not, not without—”

But before she could even stand up to go get a condom so her own lust could be satisfied, she saw a condom snugly fitted to his cock. She blinked, her brows furrowed, and she looked at him.

“What?” he asked, confused by her confusion.

“I just…didn’t I just…didn’t we…”

But he pulled her up onto his lap, kissed her slowly, and lowered her onto his erection before she could maintain enough logic to demand an answer to her questions.

She gasped when he filled her, shuddering as he lifted her up and down until she started to move on her own.

“Fuck, Barry,” she barked roughly into his neck, sweat dripping from her skin to his, the slickness of it increasing their movements and their pleasure. “Faster,” she demanded of him, but it was herself she felt moving quicker, harder, creating delirium in both of them. “Oh fuck, yes,” she cried out. “Fuck, yes, yes!”

In an instant he was looming over her, fucking her missionary-style, pushing her body deeper into the cushions as she lay on her back. Her nails dug into his skin, her legs hooked around his waist. She pushed her hand against his ass to drive him harder.

If only she’d known how good he was at sex. If only she’d known the bumbling, awkward, adorably nerdy best friend of hers was this good at sex. If only she’d _known_.

Her breath was stolen from her as she arched up into him one last time, a cry louder than she could ever remember releasing in the throes of passion echoing throughout the room. Panting heavily, she slowly came down from her high.

“Oh, Barry,” she murmured, pleasant satisfaction seeping into her bones.

She opened her eyes to look into his, to trace her fingers along the edges of his face and sift them through his sweaty hair and pull his head down onto her chest so they could just lay there for a while together and—

But Barry wasn’t there when she opened her eyes. She wasn’t even undressed. She sat up a little to see if he was around but there was no sign of him. What she was aware of was a thin layer of sweat on her skin and two of her fingers nestled between her thick folds in her panties. She slowly pulled them out, accidentally brushing over her incredibly sensitive clit. She gasped. Once the initial zap of sensation subsided, she pulled the skirt of her dress down over her now very much closed legs and sat up completely.

She forced her mind to think of other things.

_Eddie. Dad. Eddie. Dad. CCPN. Crime. Investigation. Dad doesn’t approve of Eddie. Dad doesn’t approve of Eddie. I must fix this. I must stop this. He must approve of him, because I am not going to stop dating him, because I really like him. I really like Eddie. I am attracted to Eddie. Eddie is a part of my life now, and I…_

She stood and found a sheen of moisture visible on the couch cushion. She grimaced and quickly wiped it away with a small towel she’d swiped from the kitchen.

“You are disgusting, Iris Ann West,” she muttered. “You’re mad at your dad, devoted to Eddie, and wanting nothing but Barry to find the girl of his dreams and be happy, and what do you do?” She groaned to herself as she headed up the stairs to take a shower. “You have a sex dream about him confessing that he’s in love with you and then you proceed to…” She cut herself off and stepped under the hot, soothing water. But moments later, her wet dream played over in her mind, arousing her again.

She shook her head, aggravated.

“The _hell_ , Iris.”


	5. 1.05 - Plastique

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is set after the "Streak" leaves Iris on the rooftop after their first official interaction/conversation/meeting.
> 
> Dedicated to iwasalwaysaromantic again for making me such lovely icons (but also she called dibs on this chapter when I was first formulating the idea for this series). I hope it's everything you dreamed!
> 
> *Many thanks to sendtherain for being an awesome beta once again. :)

Goosebumps of a different variety covered her skin in the moments following the departure of the infamous Streak. Iris had to fight to catch her breath when he whooshed around her, had to mentally tell her heart to slow down to its normal pace. She’d be lying if she said she’d run up a flight of stairs as fast as she had tonight – or several, as had been the case. Her legs burned when she flung open the door opening onto the roof, but the pain more than paid off. Because there he was, propped on the ledge, waiting for her.

As enthusiastic as she was to write about her idol, she had never expected to get a one-on-one interview. Granted, the Streak hadn’t exactly been cooperative in response to her interrogation -  but if writing about him would keep him coming back, then that’s exactly what she would do. Just the knowledge of someone out there saving people’s lives, being a hero, would give hope to so many people. Maybe it would give Barry back the faith he’d lost too. She had to keep writing.

Next time he came to see her, she’d be more prepared for his resistance and have more than enough fire power to make him cave.

The chilly fall air wrapped around her, causing the light hair on her skin to stand on end. She rubbed her arms and hurried inside, her thoughts now shifting from her first conversation with the Streak to the need to be warm.

It wasn’t difficult to make it down the many flights of stairs, but her heart was racing once again when she opened the door to Jitters and found the place spotless. She bit her bottom lip as butterflies filled her to the brim, rapidly flapping their wings.

She remembered where she’d been standing when he first came in. She remembered what he’d said, what she’d said – or tried to say. She remembered what he requested of her – _meet me on the roof_ – and that wink. _I’ll give you a head start_.

She was star struck, and she knew it, but she didn’t care. The Streak was her passion. She was awed by him every day. He was the reason she got up in the morning, knowing that he would be doing good and she would be able to post about it, to share what she heard and saw, to give people hope. She couldn’t imagine a greater calling than that.

And of course, there was Barry. He was the only downside to her new passion. She wanted him to love the Streak as much as she did. She wanted to see his face light up, to insist he help her in some way to find out more, because maybe – _maybe_ – whoever killed his mom was like the Streak. Obviously not in morals, but in powers. And if they did enough digging, who knew what could happen? Not only the thousands of people in Central City, but Barry, her best friend, the man only second to her father in her eyes, could really live again.

As happy-go-lucky a guy as he was, there was still clearly a weight on his shoulders that she knew she could make disappear if only he knew the truth. If Nora Allen’s true murderer was found and confessed and put away, Henry Allen would be released from Iron Heights, and Barry could be free of all the anguish and darkness he’d been carrying around for far too long.

_He’s a lucky guy._

The Streak’s final parting words. It wasn’t what he said but the tone in which he said it that made her realize she’d failed. If said in a different way, they could’ve been encouragement to keep writing. But his tone had portrayed sad resignation, which was not the kind she would have preferred. She was eager for a round two of their debate, to convince him to her way of thinking. She knew it wouldn’t be easy and was honestly almost as excited for that as she was the end result of her winning, maybe more so.

The Streak thrilled her senses. He fueled her love of journalism that Barry had pushed her towards. Even now she couldn’t sit still without her foot tapping rapidly under a table, her knee bouncing till it hit the surface. She couldn’t calm herself. She wanted to _tell_ someone.

_Your blog, Iris. Duh._

She rolled her eyes and went to fetch her laptop. Since the Streak had cleaned up Jitters, and she knew anyone at the house would not be a fan of her gushing, she’d stay put for another hour or so and proclaim to Central City via her blog just what it had been like to see and talk to the Streak in person.

_Imagine the comments…_

But just as she was about to start a new entry, she felt a whoosh behind her and immediately stood up to see who it was. Despite the gasp that escaped her parted lips, she knew it couldn’t have been anyone else.

“You’re back.”

He walked slowly towards her, making the heat creep up the back of her neck.

“I got the feeling you didn’t want the conversation to end,” he said, vibrations in every spoken word.

Iris swallowed hard and told herself to breathe.

“I didn’t.”

She tried desperately to remember the last thing they’d talked about.

“Your friend.”

Her eyes widened.

“Right. Y-yes.”

Suddenly he was right in front of her, completely invading her personal space.

“Oh-ohhkaay…”

His gloved hand hovered over her arms before gently grasping it.

“Ohhh, my God.”

“Not a god, Iris West.” He lifted his head to look at her and winked. “Not yet at least.”

She managed a tremulous smile that turned into a horrendous giggle that absolutely mortified her.

_Oh my God, Iris._

“About my friend,” she redirected weakly. _I have a boyfriend!_ Sounded in her head but not loud enough to make it past her lips. The _Streak_ was touching her, and God, it felt amazing.

“What about him?” he asked, absently playing with a lock of her hair.

Was it possible for a man to be this sexy? – _Not just any man, Iris_ , she corrected herself. No, this man had the power to save people just by being there seconds before anyone else could.

“Help me save him,” she urged, anything to get her mind off what his skin might feel like when it was in direct contact with hers.

“And how do you propose I do that?” he asked.

The thought occurred to her that he was being far more willing than he’d been only minutes prior, but she decided not to dwell on that. The important part was that he was now open to helping her, possibly to being known more publicly if she had anything to say about it. And hadn’t that been exactly what she wanted to happen should they ever meet again?

“I…uh…I was hoping maybe you would have a suggestion actually.”

He chuckled. _Sexy as hell_ raced through her mind again. Then he leaned in and angled his head so his lips nearly brushed the curve of her ear.

“You come to a duel and forget to bring your revolver, Miss West?”

Shivers raced up and down her spine. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t move. She didn’t want to feel anything but his breath against her skin the way she was feeling it now. Except more if that was an option. How she ached for…

His lips pressed to the spot of skin just beneath her ear lobe, causing her to whimper and then –

“ _Streak_.”

“That’s not my name,” he said, fitting his hands to her waist and pulling her flush up against him so nearly every inch of her body was pressed up against his.

“What is your name?” she whispered, her eyes lidded with desire but her mind curious with wonder.

He didn’t answer her in words but smiled slowly instead. A Devil’s smile that would be the end of her. She was glad his hands were still gripping her waist, or she would have surely fallen to the ground, and what kind of a look would that be? She didn’t want to be seen as a damsel in distress if she could help it. Unless that granted her answers to her questions, of course. She’d go through whatever means necessary for that.

“T-t-tell m-”

She was cut off by the most sensuous of kisses, sending a zip down her spine and spreading chills across her shoulders. Desire ebbed inside her, a throbbing moisture pooling between her legs. She could hardly breathe, but she kissed him back. She caught his bottom lip between her teeth and made him chase her lips when she released him. She smiled into the kiss when his mouth closed over hers and gasped when his body started to vibrate against her.

“Ohhh, wow.” Her eyes widened – star struck again.

“Yeah,” the whisper was soft and almost silent, but there was an air of familiarity to it that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“You know what I’d really love to do right now?” she asked, half-cautious, half-seductive.

“Hmm?”

She pressed her hand to the emblem on his chest and dug her nails into the fabric surrounding it.

“I’d love to touch you,” she said, her eyes on the lightning bolt. “ _Really_ touch you.”

She couldn’t see it, but she could’ve sworn she heard the Streak gulp. She looked up at him to see if there was any indication of nerves in his eyes. She thought she saw it for a second but then his whole face began to vibrate again, just like on the roof.

“I’d love to run my hands through your hair,” she murmured, deciding not to think too hard about how bold she was suddenly being. Maybe seducing the Streak would be her way to the answers she sought. “I’d love to feel your skin beneath my fingertips, and…” She hesitated, licking her lips in preparation for her next vocalized desire. Her eyes locked on his and didn’t look away. “I want you to want me as much as I want you.”

His vibrations continued until he was almost a complete blur in front of her, almost invisible. She worried she’d pushed too far and that he’d flash out of Jitters and who knew when they’d meet in person like this again.

When the Streak slowed himself to standing still, she thought she detected a slight panting to his form and creased her brows in worry.

“Are you…?”

And then she watched wide-eyed, as he pulled the cowl back and looked into her eyes.

She almost fell over.

“B-Barry?”

“Still want me?” he asked dejectedly.

Her jaw dropped. She could hardly believe what she was seeing. Barry was the Streak? Her best friend who kept insisting the fastest man alive was either not real or shouldn’t be written about? How could he be the Streak? And why wouldn’t he have told her if he had? She was his best friend. Or she thought she was at least. The degree of anger, frustration, shock, embarrassment, and the yet to be dissolved arousal still welling up inside her was unnerving to say the least.

“I…”

“You’re…you’re not him, are you? Did you just walk in now or…” She turned around once to see if the door had been unlocked. _As if you could see from this distance, Iris_ , she silently mocked herself.

“I’m him, Iris,” he assured her. “I’m the Streak.”

She turned back around and blinked at him.

“Though really I’d prefer if you changed the name. Streak is a little…eh.” His voice went up a bit in a squeak. She didn’t know whether to be offended or mortified. If the Streak had been anyone else she would’ve instantly backed off and begged for suggestions. But this was Barry Allen, her nerdy, awkward best friend. She would insist he have to deal with it because that was the name she’d chosen, and she was great at picking names. She’d picked the code names out all the time when they were kids.

First though, she’d have to come to grips with the fact that the same Barry Allen was also the alluring Streak that had excited and aroused her quicker than any man ever had, Eddie included.

“Please tell me this is a joke.”

His expression sobered, and he gulped again.

“No joke, Iris.” He held up his hand and vibrated it in front of her, causing her eyes to widen once more. “I’m the fastest man alive.”

Her eyes set on his as her eyebrows narrowed.

“You hid this from me? Your best friend?” She took a step towards him, her arousal slowly dissipating as anger overtook her. “I tell you everything, and you-”

“Everything?” he scoffed, and she wondered where the anger had come from. “How about you dating Eddie behind Joe’s back? You were about to have sex with the Streak!” he spat.

“ _Please_.” She snorted, but she knew it was weak.

“Before you found out the Streak was _just_ your best friend, you were going to fall apart at his hands – _my_ hands. Detective Pretty Boy be damned.”

Her face flushed, heat consuming every inch of uncovered skin.

“B-Barry,” she got out in a strangled breath.

She couldn’t meet his eyes, could barely form thoughts. This wasn’t the Barry she had grown up with. This was someone else with Barry’s face. This couldn’t be the Streak either – could it? He was still wearing the red suit with the lightning bolt emblem on it. Surely it was possible with all the dangerous metahumans running around that one of them was impersonating him. But how would they know to impersonate _Barry_ unless that’s who he really was?

Her anger was morphing into confusion, not just at the Streak’s identity but also Barry’s new – quite cocky and demanding and, well…seductive behavior. That wasn’t a Barry she was familiar with, and yet how could she deny what was right in front of her eyes.

“Are you really that disappointed, Iris?” he asked, his gloved fingers tipping her chin so she was forced to look at him. “You’re not attracted to me at all?”

Her breath caught in her throat.

“If I put my mask back on, would you be?”

He started to reach for it with his other hand.

“Wait! No, don’t!”

She caught his hand before it reached the red fabric. For a couple long moments all Iris could hear was her heartbeat thrumming loudly in her ears, and all she could feel was his gloved fingers slightly moving against her bare hand. Her eyes locked on his, hardly daring to breathe, she swallowed hard and lowered the hand she held to cover one breast.

Sensation exploded on contact. There were still plenty of barriers between them, but the heat was overwhelming. Shots of electricity sparked down her legs and through her arms, making her knees weak and her desire to have him kissing her again stronger than ever.

_Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss m-_

Her thought did not reach a full third repetition. Barry’s hand squeezed her breast at the same time his other hand cupped her face, his descent immediate. Open-mouthed, tongue-twisting, gloriously frantic kisses set Iris ablaze. She moaned into them and wrapped her hands around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, threading her fingers through his hair and tugging hard, wanting more.

She inhaled a lungful of air when he broke away to press hot, wet kisses down the side of her neck. She shivered in response, holding tight, grateful when one of his arms wrapped around her waist to support her.

“ _B-Barry_ ,” she purred, lost in the sensation of him all around her.

He lifted his head to look at her, and she noticed for the first time that he was breathing heavily too.

_Good._

“What do you want, Iris?” he rasped.

And _there_ was the Barry she knew.

She cupped his face in her hands and kissed his lips sweetly, lingering before pulling back to meet his gaze again.

“Everything.”

She smiled tremulously then watched as his expression morphed from one of hesitation and nerves to one of cocky seduction. Before she knew it, they were behind the counter and she was on top of the hard surface with Barry pushing her legs apart while he squatted near the ground, his suit now all the way off his body, leaving him in nothing but his underwear.

“Oh, my.”

She reached forward to run her hands over his shoulders, drawing his attention away from her pulsing core to the heat in her eyes. He stood up and let her hands roam, her nails gliding lightly over his chest and down his torso, her hands slipping beneath his boxers down his backside and squeezing his cheeks before smacking them lightly.

Barry didn’t say a word, but it appeared for the first time that night he was still capable of blushing.

“You have a flat ass, Barry Allen,” she goaded teasingly, “But I’ve always secretly wanted to touch it.”

They comment seemed to have flipped a switch in his brain. He was not only rendered speechless, but he apparently couldn’t proceed because he was fixated on staring into her eyes, never looking away even as the red coloring spread further across his pale skin.

Iris used the delay to undress herself as best as she could while sitting on the counter, Barry’s hands firmly planted on her thighs and the skirt of her dress pinned beneath them and the cool surface she was sitting on. She did manage to get the dress down to her hips and her bra undone, which she briefly worried would immobilize him further but instead brought him back into action.

Barry’s mouth latched onto one breast, his hand massaging the other until the softly prodded nipples became hardened peaks beneath his touch.

“Oh, Barry.”

She squirmed a little beneath him, her nails raking down his back to pull him closer when his mouth moved to the other breast and he used his hands to pull the remainder of her clothing off her into a small pile on the floor.

He didn’t stop there, though. His mouth followed the pattern of his hands, kissing its way down her silky soft skin till he reached the apex of her thighs. She spread her legs of her own volition now and let him have his way with her. She let him lap up her juices, let his tongue flick against her clit, nearly lost it when he started to vibrate his lips and tongue and _wow_ , did that feel amazing.

She said his name over and over again and came undone with her hands in his hair, pushing his face deeper into her body, her legs spread as far as they could go, her ass practically hanging in mid-air.

Barry looked like he was in Heaven, actually licking his lips after she’d crested, crying out his name – not the Streak’s – _his_. _Barry. Barry. Barry._ She knew the name better than her own, and still her body craved more.

As he stood up, he leaned towards her, capturing her lips again, letting her taste herself. It thrilled her to no end. For a while she let herself get distracted just by kissing him, feeling the velvety softness of his swollen lips as he sought to pleasure her with kisses by absolutely taking her breath away.

After a while, she wanted to get him off. She wanted to make him feel as incredible as he’d made her feel. She wanted to hear him cry out her name. This wasn’t just the euphoria of satisfying the Streak. Getting high off sexually satisfying Barry Allen, her best friend, was still a foreign concept to her, so she settled on the unknown. The Streak was some other side to the man in front of her that she’d never known. Maybe it was new to him too. Regardless, it was what she craved in this moment, and she had a feeling it wouldn’t stop here.

Barry groaned loudly when her fingers wrapped around his already hard cock. Her hands moved up and down it, squeezing gently, causing the friction she knew he needed. When his shallow breathing turned into heavy panting, she ceased all movement and instead released him to push his boxers to the ground.

Their eyes met, and she reached for him, kissing him a few more times before wordlessly guiding him to fit himself between her legs. She wrapped herself around him, pressing her damp forehead to his neck as he thrust into her, waiting for what felt like an eternity till she’d adjusted him and then began his retreat.

She didn’t let him go far, and he didn’t seem to want to. He thrust in and out of her, faster each time, sweat rolling off him and onto her, droplets falling onto the hard surface beneath her, making her worry for just a second what would happen if she fell off.

But she knew he wouldn’t let that happen, and he didn’t. His sweaty palms were braced over her on the counter, and her limbs were tangled around his like a vice. Their shared moaning and crying out each other’s names was music to Iris’ ears, and when he finally came, the satisfying groan that emerged for him made her feel electrifyingly _alive_.

Minutes passed, and all Iris could hear was the sound of Barry breathing. All she could feel was him pulsing inside her. God, she didn’t want him to leave. Not ever. She wanted him to stay inside her and fuck her again, as soon as they both had the strength. When the post-coital glow had passed, maybe she’d find it in her again to be angry at him for lying to her, but for now…for now…

Her eyes closed, her fingers idling sweeping through his hair and dancing down his back, sweeping up sweat and dragging it to another patch of skin before drenching her hands in it by flattening her palms or running all her fingers through his hair.

She loved feeling this close to him. God, she loved it so much. The intimacy was unfathomable. She’d never felt this with anyone. Never to this degree. She wanted to stay locked in this moment forever and never think about the possible consequences that could come from it.

Her eyes flashed open. _Consequences._

_Eddie. Condom. Cleanliness??_

When the first sting of dreaded awareness subsided, Iris realized there was something off about where she was. First, she was in a booth at Jitters, not behind the counter. Second, she was nowhere near naked and Barry was nowhere to be seen. Her heart was beating very fast though. Her breathing was heavy too. And her underwear was most definitely soaked.

She swallowed hard and got to her feet, which were unquestionably weak. She looked down at the seat she’d been spread out on and was grateful that her dress had swept up any moisture that would’ve been left there.

“Another dream,” she murmured to herself, wondering if the visit with the Streak on the rooftop had been part of it too.

“No, it couldn’t be.” She shook her head, decided. “And Barry?” She laughed aloud, now feeling embarrassed. “He would tell me if he’d suddenly gotten super speed and was out there saving people.”

She grabbed her purse, headed for the door, and turned off the lights before locking up and exiting the premises.

“He wouldn’t lie to me,” she assured herself. “Not about something that big.”

Breathing in the fresh air, feeling renewed and re-energized, a nagging thought did occur to her. It made her bite her bottom lip and think back on the very explicit dream she felt like she’d lived through.

_I wonder what Barry’s like in bed…_

But she didn’t let that thought go any further.

 


End file.
